


Hummingbirds and Noisy Water

by Lynda Sappington (HowNovel)



Category: Starman (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1991-05-24
Updated: 1991-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:51:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowNovel/pseuds/Lynda%20Sappington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott decides their assignment to do nature photography won't be so boring after all after he discovers an ability he shares with his father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hummingbirds and Noisy Water

**Author's Note:**

> Copyright (c) May 24, 1991, by Lynda Sappington. All rights reserved. First published in the Sep/Oct 1991 issue of TRHIFC with permission of the author.
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: The Noisy Waters Cafe is a real place, located in Three Rivers, California, and was accurately described in this story. If you're ever in the area, please stop and enjoy this charming place with its excellent food, the innumerable hummingbirds at the feeders and the beautiful, noisy river almost near enough to touch. You'll be glad you made the trip.

Copyright (c) May 24, 1991, by Lynda Sappington. All rights reserved. First published in the Sep/Oct 1991 issue of TRHIFC with permission of the author.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The Noisy Waters Cafe is a real place, located in Three Rivers, California, and was accurately described in this story. If you're ever in the area, please stop and enjoy this charming place with its excellent food, the innumerable hummingbirds at the feeders and the beautiful, noisy river almost near enough to touch. You'll be glad you made the trip.

 

HUMMINGBIRDS AND NOISY WATER  
by Lynda Sappington

 

Three Rivers, California has to be one of the smallest, quietest, most remote places you could imagine, Scott thought as he and his dad drove through the village. The nearest movie house or decent-sized town is thirty miles away! Boring!

Scott was right, it was a quiet town. There was no real grocery store, just a shop that carried supplies for the hunting and fishing crowd and included a few groceries for those who camped in the area. The Sequoia National Park entrance was a few miles past Three Rivers. Because the park was so close and Three Rivers was literally the only town for miles in any direction, the town did cater to the tourist trade, but only by having a couple of small motels and a few restaurants. Those, a drug store and a realty office made up the majority of the businesses in town as far as Scott could see.

With a hint of irritation in his voice, the boy turned to his father and asked, "Is this job going to take long?"

"It'll take as long as it takes, Scott. You know how hard wildlife and scenic photography can be. Why do you ask?"

Scott scratched the back of his head while he tried to figure a way to tell his dad what he wanted to say without really saying what he wanted to say. "Well..."

"Let me guess. You think this shoot isn't going to be any fun, right? No...action? Boring? How am I doing?" Paul's left eyebrow quirked as he turned his questioning gaze on his son.

Scott looked relieved. His dad was getting good at figuring things out without needing everything explained in excruciating detail. "Yeah, Dad. I'm just not in the mood to spend a lot of time with a bunch of trees, y'know?"

"When I finish the shots for the calendar and picture book, we'll take a little vacation, maybe go somewhere you choose...as long as it isn't Las Vegas or Reno!" Paul said with a smile, enjoying Scott's expression as the boy's face lighted up with anticipation.

"How about the beach? I'd love to learn to surf. Can we go to Malibu?" the teenager asked eagerly.

"Isn't Malibu where Johnny Carson lives? Sounds like an expensive place to me," Paul answered with a furrowed brow as he chewed on his lip in thought.

"You've been watching too much TV again!" Scott countered.

"Seems like I've said that to you a time or two," his dad said with a grin. "I'm hungry. That little yellow building is a restaurant. Let's try it, okay?"

"Sure."

The Noisy Waters Cafe was a long, low building with a large balcony facing the rapids of the Kaweah River. The entry doors featured stained-glass panels of hummingbirds. When they got inside, Paul looked around with interest, noting the photos of the restaurant almost completely submerged during a flood years earlier, and many prints, photos, and more stained-glass pictures of various kinds of hummingbirds. Since it was between lunch and dinnertime, the restaurant was deserted except for its staff.

A teenager not much older than Scott approached and asked, "May I help you?"

Paul smiled and answered, "Yes, we'd like a table outside on the balcony. The river is beautiful."

The boy agreed, "Yes, sir, that's what everyone says."

Scott wondered, "Why do they have so many pictures of hummingbirds in here? Does the owner collect them or something?"

The waiter chuckled and said, "You could say that. You'll see when you get outside."

Mystified, Paul and Scott looked at each other, then followed the boy out to the balcony. They noticed the whole back wall of the restaurant was glass, giving a beautiful view of the balcony and the river beyond. Also visible through the window was a wire stretched above the balcony railing with two-liter pop bottles suspended upside-down every couple of feet along the wire's length. The bottles were filled with red fluid and there were red flowerlike attachments to the neck of each bottle, four "flowers" per bottle. The bottles were surrounded by dozens of what at first appeared to be large, jeweled insects. Paul's eyes widened and Scott's face split in a grin as they both said, "Hummingbirds!"

The waiter watched them react just as he'd expected them to. "Yep, hummingbirds. The owner just loves them, feeds them all the time."

Scott turned to the boy and asked, "That red stuff in the bottles is bird food?"

"Yep. That's called nectar. It's kind of like the nectar in flowers, which is what the birds usually eat, but it's made mostly out of sugar, water, and red food coloring. The color red attracts them like bright flowers do. You'd be surprised how much they eat, as tiny as they are. The owner has to refill those bottles every morning. The birds know she hangs out new bottles at five AM, and if she's even a couple of minutes late, they're out here raising an unbelievable racket." He put menus on a table at the end of the balcony closest to the bird feeders and the roaring river beyond. "I'll check back with you in a few minutes to get your order," he said as he left.

Paul stood by the balcony railing, entranced by the bright-colored birds. They flitted from feeder to feeder, hovering as they daintily dipped their slender beaks into a plastic flower for a moment before moving on to another flower. They seemed to think each one would taste better than the last.

As Paul watched the birds, one turned to look back at him. Its breast was bright green, its throat a deep ruby, its wings a nearly invisible blur as it hovered near a bottle. It cocked its head a bit, turned suddenly away from Paul back to the feeder, then just as abruptly turned back to look at him again. Scott moved up to stand quietly beside his father.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Paul said quietly. "All energy, too."

"Yeah. Kinda like you, huh?" Scott teased.

Paul's eyes crinkled in amusement as he glanced at his son. "Like you, too." Their attention was drawn again to the hummingbird that had been staring at Paul. It was coming closer to him, a little at a time.

Scott glanced at his father and smiled. Paul's attention was totally centered on the tiny bird that was now close enough to touch. "He must think your red shirt is one giant flower," Scott said in a teasing murmur.

"Maybe." Paul just continued looking at the bird in that intense but gentle way of his. The bird hovered near Paul's face, apparently studying him as hard as Paul was studying the bird. Paul put his hand up slightly in front of his chin and the bird sat on his hand so it and Paul were face to face.

Scott smiled as his father's amazing rapport with animals showed itself again. More of the hummingbirds were coming over, hovering at various distances from the man and boy on the balcony. Another bird sat on Paul's hand and more hovered ever closer. The boy wondered if he'd ever have that kind of influence on animals. His dad actually seemed able to understand their thoughts. He'd never asked his dad about what he learned from the animals. He wondered what they thought about, and if his dad really did understand them.

Scott looked away from Paul and back toward the birds. He was surprised to find some birds now studying him as well as his father. He hesitantly stretched out his hand and soon was overwhelmed by two of the beautiful birds trusting him enough to sit on his fingers. He smiled at them, then turned delighted eyes to his father, wanting to share his experience with him.

Paul's face was serene, enchanted, but also filled with concentration as he seemed to be communicating with the birds on his hand. Scott looked at the birds in his own hand, awed by their delicate beauty and by the starborn nature within him that called them to him. He felt exhilarated and humbled at the same time by this power that could reach out to other species, and the great responsibility given him by the animals who overcame their wild nature and willingly put themselves in his hands.

Scott concentrated as he thought his father was doing, then felt his mind fill with images of flight, of high mountains in the distance and red flowers nearby. His whole body tingled with intense energy. He felt he could run a hundred miles without tiring. The sensations were so powerful, he suddenly felt he was no longer in control of his body but was actually flying somewhere, with his body being manipulated by some other being. He trembled with sudden terror. His birds flew off, frightened by his reaction.

Scott shook himself back into reality, overcome by what had happened to him. He looked at his father, now covered with tiny birds sitting on his shoulders and flying around his head, and marveled again at the being who had given him life.

Paul felt Scott's gaze on him and turned to look at his son. What he saw in Scott's face troubled him. He turned back to the birds for a moment and they all flew quietly, almost reluctantly away.

"Scott, what happened?" he asked, his face filled with deep concern.

"I...I...I don't know...."

Paul put his hands on Scott's shoulders and stared deeply into his son's dark, anxious eyes. After a moment, Paul smiled slightly and turned the boy toward the table. "Come on, let's order our meal, then we'll talk about it, okay?"

Calmed by his father's reaction and the soothing presence of his touch, Scott agreed. They sat down and looked over the menu, told the waiter what they wanted when he returned, then studied each other across the table.

Paul finally broke the silence. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"I'm not sure what happened, not really." Scott looked from his father's face out to the birds again happily enjoying their feeders. "I tried to...I didn't know what you were doing, but I thought it couldn't hurt to try concentrating on the birds like you were. Then, all of a sudden, I felt like I was flying, like I was above the trees, then flying between the branches, and it was so fast...it was an incredible feeling! I loved it until I got scared that I couldn't control it. That's when the birds flew away."

"You were seeing the world through the eyes of the birds, sharing their expe-riences. It's understandable that you'd be frightened, because you didn't know what to expect when you concentrated on them. You did very well. Just be careful what you concentrate on, okay?" Paul smiled at his son and patted him on the arm. "I'm proud of you, Scott."

Scott just shook his head, overwhelmed by the idea that he'd seen things through the eyes of another species. After a few moments, he asked, "Can you do that with all animals? Read their minds like that?"

"I don't know."

"Why not?"

Paul's eyes widened as he gave the obvious answer. "I haven't tried."

Scott grinned at his dad, then sat quietly thinking for a few moments. The waiter brought out their food and they began eating the fine, home-style meal.

A sudden thought struck Scott and he looked up in wonder. "Dad!"

"What?"

"The Sequoias are thousands of years old. Think of all the history they've lived through. Could you see with the eyes of a plant?"

"Plants don't have eyes. Well, I guess potatoes do, but that's not the same thing," Paul teased.

"You know what I mean. Could you...read the life of the tree, or whatever you want to call it?"

"Think about what you're saying, Scott. What has a tree up here in these high mountains experienced in its lifetime, no matter how long it's been? Not history as you're thinking of it, but a history of...sensations, things the tree has felt, like the heat of a forest fire, the weight of birds on its branches, things like that. Even if I could 'read the life of the tree,' as you put it, I probably wouldn't understand it."

Scott subsided and ate quietly for a while, then asked, "Did you tell the birds anything? Do they know who you are?"

"They know I won't hurt them, and they know I love flying, too."

"Did you take them on trips with your mind like they did when they took me flying?"

Paul sighed. Sometimes it was so hard to answer Scott's questions. "Scott, do you remember when I've shown you things from my home, and my true form with the sphere?"

"Yes."

"What happened with you and the birds today was the same kind of thing, kind of like opening a window on another world. The problem was that you didn't know what was happening or how to control it. That's why you got frightened. If I'd shown things like you suggested to the birds, they would've gotten scared, too. I just wanted them to know I wouldn't hurt them. They wouldn't understand anything else."

Scott hesitated before he asked the next question. "Can you teach me how to do it the right way?"

"How to do what?"

"How to communicate with the animals, but not lose control."

"I don't know if it's something I can teach you or not. You may have to learn it on your own. You can try again when it feels comfortable to you."

Scott's eyes sparkled as an idea came to mind. "There are lots of animals up here, aren't there?" Paul nodded. "This might not be such a boring trip after all!"

"So, you don't want to go to Malibu anymore?"

"It can wait until you get done with your job here," Scott replied, then he sat up straighter. "Wait a minute. Can you read people's minds? I know you can feel their health and moods. Could I learn to...there are lots of pretty girls at the beach? Boy, if I could put ideas in their heads...." He had a big grin on his face by this time.

Paul sighed and shook his head. "Teenagers!"

THE END


End file.
